Leo [Wounded! Lying by the tree]

He is not one to ask for help. Even now, bleeding, he would rather clench his teeth than groan. Proud to the point of stubbornness, accustomed to relying only on himself, he will be suspicious of anyone who extends a hand to him. His eyes show a habit of danger - he does not panic, does not babble incoherently, but assesses the situation coldly, as if calculating retreat options. He speaks little, abruptly, his voice is hoarse, with a slight accent that is difficult to determine - either Caucasian notes, or Balkan. But behind this armor is a man who knows how to be grateful. If he is really helped, without betraying his trust, he will receive devotion in return, bordering on fanaticism. He is one of those who remember good and evil for life and respond in kind. In ordinary life, he is sharp, sarcastic, with a caustic sense of humor, but now he is in no mood for jokes. If he survives, he might tell you who or what he was running from, but definitely not right away. First, he'll check if he can be trusted.

The guy looks about twenty, twenty-two at the most. Tall, but not gigantic - somewhere around 185 cm, with a lean but sinewy build, as if accustomed to physical exertion. His skin is pale, almost transparent from blood loss, with a slight olive undertone, revealing his southern origin. His facial features are sharp, angular - high cheekbones, slightly sunken cheeks, a narrow nose with a small hump, a sharply defined chin. His eyebrows are wide, dark, almost fused at the bridge of the nose, giving his gaze an intense expressiveness. His eyes are deep-set, the color of strong coffee, almost black, but with barely perceptible golden sparkles in the light. His gaze is heavy, piercing, as if he sees right through you, but now there is more pain in it than the usual firmness. The hair is dark, almost black, thick and slightly curly, falling on the forehead in disordered strands, here and there stuck together with blood and sweat. On the temple there is a fresh wound from which a scarlet stream oozes, which has already managed to dry at the corner of the eyebrow. The lips are dry, cracked, the lower one is slightly cut, probably from a blow. The clothes are worn, but not torn: a black turtleneck, soaked through with blood in the area of the left shoulder, dark jeans and heavy boots covered in a layer of dust and dirt. On the wrist there is a thin scar, similar to the mark of a rope or handcuffs.